


The Wrong Shirt

by meyari



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Injury, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyari/pseuds/meyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kon comes to visit Tim to see how he's doing and finds him in the wrong shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> So the_protagonist wrote a story where Tim got kicked to pieces and wore Kon's shirt as he recuperated (http://the-protagonist.livejournal.com/74682.html)(which I loved!!!) and then malkavianlove commented that there needed to be fic where Tim wore some other hero's shirt and Kon got jealous. Um, here's the fic? *sheepish grin* What? How could I resist a jealous Kon and Tim in too-big shirts? XD Hope everyone enjoys the story!

Kon hummed as he flew into Gotham. Batman would have a cow but after Tim got the shit kicked out of him last week, Kon only thought it was only appropriate for Kon to keep track of him. Fortunately, he could smell Batman off in the city with the runt Robin and Dick was somewhere down by the docks. Steph was speeding towards some sort of dustup that he knew he couldn't help with if he didn't want Batman to break out the kryptonite, not that it really mattered. He was there for Tim, not for saving people.

He sort of expected to find Tim down in the spooky Cave with Alfred serving him tea or something but Tim was upstairs in the Manor, apparently making his own tea in the kitchen. When Kon sped in without warning, Tim just pulled a second cup out of the cabinet.

"Dude, should you be up?" Kon asked as he perched on one of the stools by the counter.

"I'm fine," Tim said though his shoulders tensed enough that Kon could tell he really shouldn't be up.

"Don't even," Kon said as Tim tried to carry the full and steaming tea kettle with one arm since he obviously couldn't do it with his broken arm.

He used TTK to take the kettle away and pour tea for them both even though Kon didn't really like tea. But there were blueberry scones and Tim really loved those so Kon figured he'd put up with it. After all, Tim watched baseball with him last week and he didn't like baseball at all. Once Tim settled down on his own stool Kon blinked.

The smell in the room had been bugging him since he arrived. Tim smelled off, not sick-wrong or not-really-Tim-this-is-a-double-wrong, but off. Like he'd used the wrong shampoo or Alfred changed fabric softeners or something. It wasn't until Tim was right next to him that Kon realized what it was.

"Dude, why are you wearing Nightwing's stupid shirt?" Kon asked and didn't even try and hide the hostility the way he should have.

"The sleeves on my shirts are too tight to get over the cast," Tim explained with a little shrug. "Dick gave me some of his old shirts to wear until it comes off."

"Dick." Kon felt his teacup tremble and firmly told himself that that was perfectly reasonable. Wrestling a broken arm through a too tight sleeve probably sucked.

"Mmm-hmm," Tim murmured.

"Some shirts."

"Yes, four of them," Tim said. This time he looked up from his methodical process of dismantling his scone and buttering each bite with some precisely calculated amount of butter to raise an eyebrow at Kon. "Bruce gave me one and Clark gave me two others."

This time the whole kitchen rattled for a moment before Kon got a grip on his TTK. He carefully set the teacup down and then stomped out of the kitchen and up to Tim's room. The offending shirts were sitting on Tim's bed, neatly folded and every one of them smelling absolutely nothing like Tim. From the doorway he heard Tim make a tiny questioning noise.

"I don't like it," Kon growled.

He knew, just knew, that he was totally blowing their bro-code. Cassie was going to murder him and Bart would tease him but there was no way that Kon could let Tim wear those shirts. If his Tim was going to wear anyone's shirts besides his own then he should be wearing _Kon's_ shirts! Just thinking that thought made Kon want to run but Tim was there putting his good hand on Kon's elbow and smirking at Kon with his head cocked to the side just enough to be adorable.

"Are you jealous?" Tim asked as if he was going to laugh at any moment.

Kon hesitated for about half a second and then leaned down to capture Tim's mouth. The kiss wasn't anything like kissing Cassie, who was soft and round and always kissed back hard enough for Kon to feel it. Kissing Tim was more like butterflies mixed with steel and there were bruises to worry about and that cast on his arm but somehow they wound up on Tim's bed with Tim in Kon's lap and there were these incredible whimpering noises coming out of Tim's mouth.

"Don't like it," Kon whispered once Tim had stopped trembling and whimpering and started moaning as he rubbed his hips against Kon's stomach. "Don't want you in their shirts!"

"I need to wear something," Tim said entirely too reasonably for how they were rocking against each other.

"My shirts," Kon said. "I'll give you my shirts."

"I'd like that," Tim whispered as he pulled Kon in for more kisses.

From the way Tim kissed Kon, he'd been thinking about doing it for a very long time which on one hand was totally ego-boosting and the other made him feel like a complete dork for not picking up on it sooner. When Kon started pulling the stupid Dick-shirt off, Tim helped as much as he could with broken ribs and a broken arm.

"You're hurt," Kon protested in a muffled mutter against Tim's lips as he kept kissing Kon's lungs out even when Kon tried to pull back.

"You haven't given me your shirt," Tim said with pure mischief in his eyes.

Kon snickered and pulled it off. Helping Tim into it felt like the most intimate thing he'd ever done for some strange reason though that might have something to do with the shy, pleased look on Tim's face as it settled onto Tim's body. They went back to kissing like they were never going to stop until Alfred knocked on the bedroom door.

"Shall I put the tea and scones away, Master Timothy, Master Conner?"

Tim sighed and pulled back enough to smile ruefully at Kon before he turned to call towards the door. "No, we'll be down shortly, Alfred. Kon was just loaning me his shirt."

"…Very good, Master Timothy," Alfred said with just enough hesitation that Kon went beet red.

Once Alfred's footsteps had gone down the stairs to the first floor Kon groaned. Tim grinned at him and stood up to offer Kon one of Clark's shirts. He laughed quietly at the way Kon glared at the shirt before eyeing Kon's naked torso.

"You might want to put something on before going downstairs," Tim commented. "I don't mind but I think Alfred would object to you being in the kitchen without a shirt."

"It's the wrong shirt," Kon complained as he pulled the bright blue T-shirt over his head. "It's blue. And Clark's. Should go change and bring you more shirts."

Tim's cheeks went red but the mischievous look was still there in his eyes as he touched Kon's stomach with his fingertips. They almost felt hot through the wrong shirt. Kon wondered for one wild second why Cassie's touches never did that to him and decided that it was because she touched a heck of a lot more freely than Tim did. For her, touching was normal and expected. Tim-touches were huge, like epically enormously hugely significant, probably with some weird Bat-rating system on how much he could touch at any given time and a code behind each touch to give it extra meaning.

"I'd rather you brought me one tomorrow night," Tim admitted as his ears went as red as his cheeks.

"One that smells like me?" Kon asked as he started floating from sheer joy.

Tim shrugged as if it was nothing special but the blush and the shy smile and the way he wouldn't quite meet Kon's eyes said the exact opposite. Kon grinned and scooped him up for a floating hug that made Tim laugh and snuggle against Kon's chest. No way would he have believed that Tim was cuddly until now.

"You got it," Kon said. "Gotta come back every night to make sure you don't wear those wrong shirts anyway."

"Heh, and what'll you do if I am in one of the wrong shirts?" Tim snickered.

Kon growled and fried Dick's shirt where it lay on the floor. He sort of scorched the floor too but Kon didn't really care. Tim smelled right now that he was out of the wrong shirt and he was laughing and holding onto Kon as if he didn't want to be anywhere else. What was a little scorching between bros?

"Hey," Kon said as the thought suddenly occurred to him, "does this mean we're not like best buddies anymore? Are we dating or something?"

"You'll always be my best friend, Kon," Tim said in that fond 'you're such an idiot' tone of voice that normally made Kon feel like he was simultaneously ten feet tall and less than an inch tall. "Whether we're dating or not."

"Cool!" Kon said. "So do you think Alfred could make us some pizza or popcorn or something? I mean, I know you like scones and all but I'm kind of hungry."

Tim snickered and looked towards the floor. "I'm sure we can ask. Once we're downstairs."

"Cool," Kon said.

He settled back down to the floor and let Tim stand on his own feet though Kon did keep his arms wrapped around Tim. To his surprise, Tim didn't immediately pull away. He looked up at Kon, the bruises still visible on his face though they were starting to fade. After a second Tim shook his head and rose up on his toes to press a gentle kiss against Kon's lips.

"Thank you," Tim whispered and smiled that shy smile again. "For the right shirt. Now, let's get something to eat."

"Dude, you don't have to ask twice!" Kon said and grinned brightly enough that he got a tiny Tim-laugh.

The End


End file.
